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“Eloise is Coach Martin’s daughter,” Ian blabs.

My heart stops, and I suddenly wish I could duck even further behind my box, preferably all the way back to last week when none of this was happening. I don’t dare look in their direction, or even breathe. My usual carefree, self-confident attitude seems to have flown right out the damn window when he walked in the room.

"Oh!" Atlas sounds as if everything suddenly makes sense, which is exactly what I didn't want. Recognition floats in his voice, in his footsteps, and in the way I feel his attention swing back to me.

"Small world," he mutters, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His gaze travels slowly, lingering for a moment that feels electric, and I feel a flutter deep in my stomach.

I’m unable to stop myself from anxiously tugging at a stray curl, my fingers trembling with an awkward panic that feels all too familiar. It's as if I'm suddenly thirteen again, that awkward stage of adolescence when I was hopelessly pining after a guy who seemed light-years out of my league. The flutter of nervous energy in my stomach and the heat rising to my cheeks remind me that some things, despite all the time that's passed, never really change.

* * *

Time trudges along with the slowness of a snail inching across a vast expanse. My cheeks are ablaze with such ferocity that they could easily warm the entire apartment. Atlas continuously casts curious glances my way, each one intensifying the flames of my embarrassment. This, without a doubt, is my worst nightmare unfolding.

I can sense that recognition has dawned upon him, yet there's an unfamiliar quality to it, something intriguingly different.

Being noticed is not nearly as fun as thirteen-year-old me imagined. Instead of hearts and flowers, it's anxiety and lots of sweating. I have no idea why I want to bolt to the nearest bathroom and stay there until he's gone.

“Be right back!" I shout over my shoulder, slipping away from the crowd, feigning urgency as I escape to pull myself together in solitude.

Atlas's gaze follows me as I retreat to the kitchen, where I busily rummage through the first cabinet I encounter, desperate to distract my hands and mind from this crazy situation. One look at grown-up Atlas and I’m ready to jump his gorgeous bones. Fudge. Now that my best friend is marrying his brother, I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing more and more of him. How in the world am I going to keep my heart safe from him?

Sage finds me perched on a step stool, attempting to sort her pots from mine. "What are you doing hiding out in here?" she asks.

"I’m just trying to keep the packing going," I eventually say, instead of spilling my full anxiety.

"I’ll cover my half of the rent until you get another roommate," Sage unexpectedly offers, and I realize she thinks I’m still upset over her moving out. Oh no. I have a whole new worry now that Atlas Hot just walked back into my life and turned it into a hot mess. "I’m the one moving out without notice, after all." It's a generous offer, but I know she earns about the same as I do.

"That's not fair," I reply, shaking my head, hoping to reassure her. "I’ll find someone to move in."

Atlas saunters in, and his words leave me speechless. "Are you looking for a roommate?" I nod my head, already dreading what he might say next. "I could move in," he suggests. My jaw nearly hits the floor. Here I am, trying to figure out how to avoid him, and he’s offering a solution that would fix my economic problem while putting my heart in imminent danger.

The apartment falls silent, and it's like time itself pauses. Atlas stands there, hands in pockets, calm and casually handsome, as everyone turns to him like he just announced he's growing a third eye.

Ian is the first to recover. "Really? Move in with Eloise?" he asks as a smirk appears on his face.

Sage's expression switches from guilty to giddy. "Weezy, that's perfect!" she squeals, hugging Winnie tight as the dog puts on her best show of trembling in distress. The little diva doesn’t like someone else being the center of attention.

Atlas shrugs as though living with me is the easiest decision of his life. "I’ve been looking to get out of Beckett's place anyway."

“I’ll second that,” Beckett cuts in, grumbling under his breath about ungrateful asshole brothers. “It’s time you got out of my guest bedroom.”

"What do you say?" Sage looks like she’s about to self-combust.

I’m speechless, wondering when I stepped into the Twilight Zone. “Uh—” I clear my throat and stiffen my spine. “That would be great.”

"It's settled then?" Beckett asks, rapidly moving to finalize things before I can even comprehend what I'm agreeing to. His somewhat frantic tone suggests he's eager to pass his brother on to someone else.

“Hell yes.” Atlas doesn’t hesitate. "Beans keeps eating my shoes," he finally says, rolling his eyes. “And Pork farts so much, I need a goddamn gas mask.” His shoulders shake with laughter, a deep, contagious sound that fills the room the same way he does.

Beckett frowns. "You left them next to his toy box. And for the record, Pork has a delicate system."

“Delicate my ass.” While Atlas and Beckett debate the wiener dog’s digestive system, I lean back against the counter, wondering where things went so crazy.